


Distances #1 (Tributary)

by RhetoricFemme



Series: Team [3]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: College, Embarrassing moments, Harvard, Long Distance Relationships, M/M, Ouran High School Host Club - Freeform, Post-Ouran, college!kyoya, fun and interesting roommates you might kind of know from somewhere else, kaoru hitachiin - Freeform, kyokao, kyoya ootori - Freeform, kyoya x kaoru, teamverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4305810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricFemme/pseuds/RhetoricFemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been months since the host club's year in Boston came to an end. Months since Kyoya's start at Harvard, therein leaving his friends and boyfriend behind. Finally, Kaoru comes for a visit. Based in the Teamverse, Tributary is Part One of a subset of three short stories based on the theme of, you guessed it, Distance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distances #1 (Tributary)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey All!
> 
> I'm working my way through a little trio of short stories set in the Teamverse! I'll be sad when these are done, because this series is winding down. But hey that's what reading is for.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story, and that you'd be kind enough to leave me comments on what you think of it! <3

Autumn seeps through a cracked window and into the dorm, the breeze carrying just enough of a chill that it rests prominently on Kyoya’s skin. He remains attentive while leaning against the open doorway, peering impatiently at his phone while toeing at the earth tone weave of the carpet accenting the sparsely populated corridor.

Sunlight plays off the lens of Kyoya’s glasses, and the new season tickles the inside of his chest as he inhales the cleaner, cooler autumn air. Any other weekend, and no doubt he’d still be hidden beneath still-warm blankets, mulling over the temptation of taking his coffee and textbooks parkside in attempt to lure himself out of bed.

Oh, but today is nothing like all those other days.

Today Kaoru is coming.

Months have gone by since the host club’s return to Japan; with it the readjustment to springtime beginnings and learning how to manage whilst continents apart from people so well loved. Where Kyoya easily accepts the uncertainties that come with a long-distance relationship, Kaoru remains reluctant and unable to keep from further lacing the situation with worry and skepticism.

Privately, Kaoru has admitted to more than one fit of sad laughter when acknowledging the irony of his feelings—that time away from Kyoya has proven a bigger upset than time away from his beloved twin, whose promise and devotion will always be solid facts of life.

And so, Kyoya planned.

He’d scattered his personal space with bits of Kaoru from the beginning. Personal affects and intimate reminders of his loyalty at Harvard evident to no one, if not himself. Of course, there had always been the quiet hope that one day Kaoru would also see.

Anxious and near childlike in the doorway, Kyoya cannot help but know how this visit is his chance at demonstrating his commitment to Kaoru, who despite what he claims, is visiting partially out of fear of losing his love to some kind of American grandeur. On the contrary, it is Kyoya’s intention to pull Kaoru into a piece of his world that might not directly include him, but is clearly influenced by and representative of him in so many other ways.

To confirm that despite the lure of American beauty, that Kyoya is all about this new twist he’s found in the old soul of Japan.

He hopes that Kaoru will see what others cannot when he scans Kyoya’s desk, finding the dog-eared copy of _No Longer Human_ , their bookmark keeping vigil of the place where they left off. He wants Kaoru to notice his own influence within several elective textbooks that are bringing Kyoya closer to fluency in Spanish. He imagines the expression across Kaoru’s face when he first sees the heavy silver frame that serves both as bookend and memory holder, the photo inside granting a candid look of the two of them stretched with legs tangled as they monopolize Tamaki’s favorite chaise lounge against their king’s direct wishes.

Minutes have passed since Kaoru’s last text. Throwing patience to the wayside, Kyoya leans outside the dorm’s open frame. It isn’t long before he spots auburn tresses and that same duffel that accompanies Kaoru from one end of the world to the other, and an immediate thrill fills Kyoya’s chest. It’s enough simply to acknowledge that his Ootori-born body can house this level of elation, and for a small moment Kyoya decides against wiping away his less-than-composed grin.

Picking up his pace, Kaoru makes it to the end of the hallway with his composure intact, only to abandon all guile upon reaching Kyoya’s arms. Laughing into their embrace, words and sentiments meld into one another, their mutual longing enough to tide them over until a more private oppurtunity comes along, and for the moment they break apart.

At least, Kaoru thinks with relief, they still have language. Kyoya ushers him inside the dorm at the same moment that Kaoru spills his question in excited Japanese.

“So where do we plan on defiling, first?”

It never ceases to amaze Kyoya that this beautiful creature, this intellectually interesting young man, his most compatible person, essentially boils down to a veritable man-child at the most curious of times.

He draws on that fixed smile, that unflappable Ootori Charm while allowing Kaoru a comparatively chaste kiss. Pulling him inside, Kyoya motions toward a couch opposite them, where another young man lounges and waves. Disheveled black hair falls just short of his eyes, and with legs tucked beneath him and a book in his lap, he is the picture of dirty grace and ease.

“Kaoru, meet my suitemate, Dan. He spent last year studying abroad.”

“Ah!” Kaoru’s smile is as clear and immaculate as his English. Neither betrays the fact that he’s eager not to make a good impression so much as to scope out this person he’s being presented with. “Nice to meet you, Dan. Where did you study?”

“The Sanriku region, mostly.”

It is a feat in itself to embarrass an Hitachiin, a fact lost on no one as Dan smiles politely, and Kyoya absorbs the quietly mortified expression just beneath the surface of Kaoru’s impressively schooled face. It’s clear that he’ll be getting a line of questioning later. Mainly about how he failed to mention the fact that his roommate is no mere political ecology major, but also a minor in Japanese language, which greatly assists him in helping with cleaning up tsunami aftermaths. Kyoya would’ve mentioned it, save for the fact that he and his roommate rarely share their space in tandem, and nice as Dan is, he simply does not factor largely into Kyoya’s headspace.

Speechless, Kaoru gives the guy a polite nod.

“You’ve got a lovely country, Kaoru. It was a pleasure helping out and studying there. I’m rather looking forward to going back.”

“Thanks.” He tries not to mutter. There is no reason to mutter, Kaoru argues with himself as he tries to suppress the awkward tension he alone is pouring into the space. “You too?”

Quietly, Kyoya sidles up next to his boyfriend and lays a gentle hand on one hip. “He’s British.”

“I can hear that.” Kaoru snips as he attempts to straighten his mind, to move them further away from his earlier faux pas. “Sorry.”

“Good to meet you too, Kaoru.” Dan is shorter than him, Kaoru notices, though not by much, and exudes a certain authenticity as he reaches to shake Kaoru’s hand. “Kyoya was right. Your English must be just as good as your Japanese.”

Dan seems authentic enough, Kaoru thinks while examining carpet before raising his eyes to the walls. He spends less time looking over Dan’s side of the room, and more of it taking in the ways in which Kyoya has made this small space his own.

Orderly, though not pristine, Kaoru commits the image to memory as the first and likely only time Kyoya has been largely responsible for the upkeep of his own quarters. He can’t help the smile tugging at his lips for the unmade bed, already able to hear his petulant boyfriend stating the fact that he’ll only end up laying in it again.

Kaoru’s gaze moves toward Kyoya’s desk, the space haloed by a fully occupied bookshelf, the contents strategically placed for what he can only imagine to be his own benefit. The gesture warms him, loosens his sense of humility to a more appropriate level, and suddenly things don’t seem so bad. Leaning inward, Kaoru presses into Kyoya’s neck, inhaling that perfect balance between detergent and his skin, and whispers an _I love you_ in apology.

For a moment, Kaoru’s drawn further into Kyoya’s chest before the older boy lets go. A gentler, more discreet smile plays at his face, its coming and going reminding Kaoru of reflected beams playing off of perfectly clear and sunlit water. It’s a nice aesthetic, one he tucks into his mind for later.

Glancing over the other side of the room, a montage of Union Jacks and personal effects cover Dan’s space; a tribute to somewhere he presumably still calls home. Kaoru reflects while remembering that Dan’s a transplant to this country, too. There’s a story there, Kaoru imagines, that this kid would spend a year abroad on the tsunami-battered coasts of Japan before pursuing education in the still far-away America.

The moment passes with Kyoya noticing all that his boyfriend notices, and he decides it’s all a bit too heavy this early in the day. Sliding a hand into Kaoru’s back pocket, Kyoya uses their shared proficiency in German to explain that while he’s secured them a more private arrangement for the weekend, that Kaoru may have as thorough and debauched a tour as he wants, later.

Sweet rose crests Kaoru’s cheeks, and he gives a sufficient nod regarding the rest of their plans, before pulling away. No use in creating third wheels, he decides, before speaking to other matters of import.

“Don’t even try and convince me that you’re not hungry.” He looks accusingly at Kyoya, who he assumes couldn’t have been up for more than an hour at this point, but has no idea that his excitement at seeing Kaoru had seen him awake now for several hours.

“If you’re implying that I’ve yet to eat today, then you’re right.”

Smiling, Kaoru offers an unknowingly ironic nod before turning toward Dan. “You’re coming too, right?”

He makes a noise in mild surprise while looking first at Kaoru, then to Kyoya. “This is your blokes’ time, it’s not mine to—“

“That’ll be a yes, then.” Kyoya interjects with finality, “Besides, in the two months we’ve been here, I don’t think we’ve taken a single meal together.”

“Well, that’s the sort of thing that happens when you schedule all afternoon classes, use evenings ‘n midnights for homework and international business calls.”

“Does he sleep until noon, too?” Kaoru smiles around his words, knowing the answer well as Dan fills in Kyoya’s days and gives him inadvertent peace of mind.

“All the time! Work hard, sleep hard, yeah?”

“How I use my newfound freedom of schedule is my own prerogative, and no one else’s, thank you.” Kyoya dismisses the two of them, choosing now to walk slightly ahead. He does not deign to turn around but speaks over his shoulder when making his threats.

“Keep it up and I’ll leave the two of you to campus dining while I go elsewhere.”

“Aw!” Kaoru cries. “You mean we’re not eating here?”

“Hell, no.” Kyoya falls back in line beside Kaoru, detailing his account of the single day he chose to partake in campus dining before learning how to budget his time in pursuit of better food options.

“I’m not sorry to have chosen living in the dorms this year.” Kyoya nods toward Dan as he explains himself. “I’d much rather gain new experiences, with the added incentive of not falling under the umbrella of ‘over-privileged children who can’t or won’t fend for themselves.’”

“Good on you.” Dan praises.

“Having said that, I’m already scoping out choice apartments for next fall, which will hopefully be good enough to see me through the rest of my time here.”

“Of course you are.” An affectionate bump of their shoulders, and Kaoru has him smirking reticently with his eyes toward the ground.

Indeed, Massachusetts  is a far cry from both the streets and sensibilities of Tokyo. The academic approach is leagues away from what he’s accustomed to, though their time in Boston has seasoned him to expectations of him. Compared to home, the cultural amalgamation is enough to blow Kyoya’s mind, though he finds a certain comfort in understanding that at least on campus, he is a welcome addition such a diverse climate.

Kyoya notices a quieter transition in himself, too, as he loops an arm around Kaoru’s waist; one where he has significant lack of regard for the opinions of anyone who may or may not see him—see them—this way. It’s what he would call a public display of support, rather than affection; considering he doesn’t care for overly demonstrative behavior in public no matter which continent it is.

But to counter the nerves dancing around his lover’s mind. To know that the touch of his hand has the ability to ease tension built and hiding inside Kaoru’s chest… _That_ is the sort of behavior Kyoya endorses entirely, and dreams of a world where geographic location no longer determines what he can or cannot do.

No matter, though.

He is an Ootori, after all.

One day he’ll return home to Japan, to Kaoru’s hands; an heritage-bound and fire-tested example of what it means to look at the world and shape it to reflect his mind’s eye.


End file.
